


The Break of Day

by Thuri



Series: A Light in the Dark [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Canon-Typical Violence, First Kiss, Fix-It, M/M, finally requited longing, wavy hands excuses for things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28275336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thuri/pseuds/Thuri
Summary: Noctis wakes after ten years in the crystal, to find Ignis has not been idle in his absence.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Series: A Light in the Dark [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2071362
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	The Break of Day

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory fix-it fic, because like I could really leave things off where canon did! No way.
> 
> This is the same universe as Walking in Twilight, but can be read separately. This and the previous piece in the series ended up being my NaNo, so are super rough and probably have typos, but I'm trying to get less perfectionist about my work or I never share it at all. Enjoy!

Sometimes, when his usual distractions failed, Ignis found himself remembering the journey back from Gralea.

He still wasn’t entirely sure how the three of them had managed it, alone in a city of daemons, Noctis taken from them and only the vision Pryna had given him any indication that the prince would return. The despair Ignis had felt hovering over him ever since Altissa had, in those first moments, been very close indeed.

But somehow he had fought past it, as had Gladio and Prompto. They’d found a flying transport still in decent enough shape, they’d loaded the Crystal onto it, and they’d headed out. Prompto had managed to fly the thing, though more than once Ignis had desperately wished he’d been able to see the controls himself, to take over--the flight had been anything but steady and he’d spent most of it sick to his stomach, trying to swallow down the bile rising in his throat.

At long last they’d arrived in Tenebrae, where Prompto had managed a landing that wasn’t, entirely, a crash. From there they’d been lucky enough to be able to contact Arenea, who had taken pity on them and flown them--and the Crystal--home to Lucis.

They’d taken the Crystal to Lestallum, the last place left with any amount of light, and installed it safely inside the power plant. Holly had been invaluable, in helping and concealing the true nature of it.

And then they’d settled in to wait. For Noct to return, for the King to bring light back to the world.

Ignis had not been idle--he’d set about adapting to his own personal darkness even as the world had adjusted to theirs. He refused to be dependent on anyone else, and worked with a single minded determination that had more than once put him at odds with his friends. And yes, he’d also more than once injured himself, but cuts and bruises healed quickly enough. He taught himself to cook once again, learning to identify ingredients by touch, to make his already tidy workspace even more so, until he knew where each of his tools was without having to check.

After learning to navigate his own small home--he’d taken an apartment in Lestallum at Iris’s urging, and mostly only so she could leave Talcott safely behind as she began to help Gladio on hunts--he set about learning to navigate the city as well. Talcott was indispensable there. The boy was eager to please in all things and managed to assist without making Ignis feel an invalid. It helped that he had a quick mind and was eager to share all the legends and stories Jared had written down and told him over the years.

Ignis’s explorations of the city were helped as well by the unexpected return of some small portion of his vision. After perhaps eighteen months of total darkness--the utter disappearance of daylight had made tracking time difficult even for those who could still see--he found himself once again able to open his right eye. While the left had, it seemed, been destroyed and the lid permanently paralyzed, the right was still intact--and not completely useless.

Detail and color were still lost to him, but Ignis could differentiate light from dark, could see shapes silhouetted against a bright background. It took him weeks to adjust and for the headaches caused by the brightness after so long in the dark to fade, but when they finally had, he was able to move almost freely again, leaving the cane behind more and more often.

He still, however, wore a visor to hide the ruin of his eyes. Talcott might think his scars and the milky surface of his right eye were “so cool!” but Ignis had no illusions that most of the populace would agree.

Ignis’s new found freedom allowed him to begin his own mission--and again he found a willing helper in Talcott. Though Ignis was loath to put the boy at any risk, he was also determined to find a way to avoid the fate that Pryna had shown him. There had to be a way to keep Noct from dying...and Ignis would stop at nothing to find it.

***

“What is it?” Noct asked, turning the small device over and over in his hands. It looked like Solheim tech, but that was about all he could make out. And after ten years-- _ten years, how is that even possible? What did they go through without me?_ \--he wasn’t even sure of that.

“Our salvation,” Ignis returned. He sat across from Noct outside the old Hammerhead caravan, his face pale in the floodlights. Or maybe just from the lack of sun. Noct shivered, glancing upwards. He’d been back for hours, now, long enough that dawn should’ve happened...but it hadn’t. He couldn’t imagine how they’d all lived like this for years. “Or at least that’s the hope.”

Noct set the device down on the table between them. It was simply enough, a hollow metal cylinder with red runes around it set into a thick base. Nothing to indicate the hope in Ignis’s voice, or the reverence in Talcott’s when he’d said Ignis had something “amazing” to show Noct when they arrived. “What’s it do?”

“If my calculations are correct,” Ignis said, leaning forward slightly, “it should provide the Ring with a...boost. In order to defeat Ardyn and rid the world of him, you’ll have to channel everything through the Ring, from the space between life and death. Doing so will, uh...not be particularly safe…”

“You mean it’s going to kill me,” Noct said softly. Damn. He’d hoped that the others might not know, that he could keep up the illusion that everything would be fine. “I know, Ignis. I’m sor--”

“It’s _not_ ,” Ignis interrupted him firmly, his blind eye somehow still fixing Noct with a firm glare. “It would have, yes, but it’s not going to now.”

Noct blinked. That was...not what he’d expected. “Um. Bahamut was pretty clear…”

“And no disrespect to him, but he didn’t count on this,” Ignis said, again gesturing to the device. “Talcott and I have spent the last decade digging up everything we could on the starscourge, on Adryn, and on Solheim. And yes, as things stood when the Gods decided on their plan of action, the only way to get enough power to the source was by channeling it through a soul, which was likely to destroy the soul in question. But that’s not acceptable, Noct. I won’t allow it.”

“You won’t, huh?” Noct asked, unable to stop a fond smile, even as he shivered to hear his fate so clearly laid out. He didn’t think there was really anything Ignis could do to change it, but the fact that he’d obviously been trying made Noct’s heart squeeze in his chest. _Oh, Specs, I wish for your sake things could be different…_

“Absolutely not,” Ignis confirmed. “Which is why I devised this. All you’ll need to do is put the Ring inside and turn it on. I could give you all details if you wished, but suffice it to say that Solheim was not unaware of what they’d done, and there were those among them who wished to fix their own mistakes. Their civilization fell before they could accomplish their goals, but they left behind instructions--and were aware of the Ring and the Crystal.”

Noct bit his lip. This was...actually sounding plausible. But he couldn’t risk the fate of the world on a maybe...even to make Ignis happy. “Specs, this is all sounding good, but...what happens if I put the Ring in this thing and it...destroys it or something?”

Ignis’s jaw clenched, the muscles working under the skin, before he shook his head slightly. “It won’t. I promise you, nothing about it could hurt the Ring, especially now. The worst that would happen is the device would be rendered useless, just so much metal and stone.”

“And if it does work?” Noct asked. He was fairly sure he shouldn’t be considering this. He trusted Ignis, trusted him implicitly, but...he also knew the man. Had known, most of his life, that Ignis would risk everything for him--in fact _had_ , more than once. Noct couldn’t be sure that Ignis wouldn’t risk the fate of the entire world on the off chance it would save Noctis’s life.

“If it does, then you’ll be anchored here,” Ignis replied, tapping the table lightly. “A conduit for the power required, yes, but one that can withstand it.” He paused, taking a long, slow breath. “I..I can’t protect you from the fight ahead, Noct, and I won’t ask you to abandon it. But please…”

Noct looked down at the Ring on his finger. He could feel the power of it singing through his bones, racing through his blood, melding and dancing with the sparks of magic he’d always had within him. He’d felt, when he’d woken, as if the Ring had somehow become a part of him--or perhaps, more accurately, that he’d become a part of the Ring. No longer himself, no longer separate, but a walking manifestation of its power, and its place as an instrument of the Gods’ will.

And he knew that when that power was unleashed, everything he was would be lost in it, never to return.

But if what Ignis was saying was true...maybe he didn’t have to be. 

“Okay,” Noct breathed, hoping he wasn’t damning the world and everything in it. He thought Ignis was wrong, that it wasn’t possible. And in all likelihood the device would do nothing, the level of power in the Ring now had to be beyond any tech. But if it _did_ work...perhaps he’d have a chance for a life he’d long ago resigned himself was out of reach. “Okay. But dammit, Iggy...you better be right about this.”

Noct pulled the Ring off his finger, dropped it into the cylinder, and flicked the switch.

***

“How...how are we supposed to--shit, Gladio, behind you!--supposed to know if it works?” Prompto called out, grunting as he rolled away from the imp trying to claw him and snapped a shot off at the flan menacing Gladio. 

“Presumably the sun will return,” Ignis said from behind him, a dagger flashing distractingly close past Prompto’s shoulder. He still wasn’t sure how Ignis knew not to hit him, but he wasn’t about to ask.

“Assuming it’s not the middle of the night,” Gladio grunted as the flan in front of him dissolved. 

“Borrowing trouble, big guy,” Prompto panted, glancing up at the citadel behind him. Noct had headed up a while ago...surely he was almost done? 

But when he was...what would they find?

“Even if it is, eliminating the Scourge should eliminate the daemons along with it,” Ignis said, drawing even with Prompto as an iron giant bore down on them. “Which cannot be soon enough,” he added, under his breath but still loud enough to hear.

“You can say that again.” Gladio launched himself at the giant with a loud cry.

They fought on against the seemingly never ending waves and Prompto spared a moment to be grateful Noct had restored their supply of curatives before he’d disappeared above them. They might just need every single last one of them at this rate.

The daemons kept coming, pressing them back and up the stairs, as they lost ground by inches. Prompto lost sight of Gladio as a naga bore down on him, her slithering form reminding him suddenly and sharply of the one who’d grabbed him in Fociaugh Hollow over a decade ago. Then there was no time to think, as she struck out at him and he raised his gun.

Only to have the bullet fire through suddenly empty air.

“Wha…?” Prompto blinked, then blinked again, whirling around. Where moments before the naga had been about to close with him, there was nothing. All across the courtyard, the daemons who’d been advancing were _gone_.

“Took him long enough,” Gladio gasped, now standing alone near the bottom of the stairs.

“Quickly!” Ignis called, already heading up the stairs, reacting faster to the impossibility around them than Prompto could manage. “We must get to him!”

Prompto shook off his shock and forced his shaking limbs to move, to carry him up the seemingly endless flight of stairs back into the citadel. “Where...do you know where…?”

“The throne room,” Ignis replied tersely, as he tugged the door open and headed once again to the elevators. “As fast as we can.”

Prompto nodded, saving his breath for running. 

The trip to the throne room seemed to take a thousand times longer than it ever had before and Prompto more than once thought he and Gladio might have to physically restrain Ignis as the elevator made its way upwards.

But at last they arrived, Ignis pushing the doors open and moving unerringly toward the throne and its lone occupant.

Prompto gasped as he mounted the stairs, seeing Noct slumped over, his body still, the stairs to the dias stained red with blood. “Iggy, he’s…”

“No, he is _not_ ,” Ignis snapped as he reached the throne, taking Noct in his arms. “He’s breathing! I need an elixir, quickly!”

Prompto stumbled his way up, falling on his knees by Ignis and reached into the Armiger. It responded sluggishly, as if he was pulling through thick mud, but at last the elixir dropped into his palm.

Together he and Ignis wrapped Noct’s limp hand around it and crushed the vial.

***

Leaving Insomnia felt no more glorious nor triumphant than returning. Though Ignis knew the sun now shone over the ruined city, its light didn’t reach the interior of Arenea’s airship--nor had its warmth thawed the fear in his chest.

He cradled Noct in his arms, his entire being centered on the sound of Noct’s breathing, the feel of the pulse in his wrist. He lived. He had not yet woken, no, but he lived...surely Ignis’s mad plan had succeeded. Surely Noct would return to him.

He had to believe it, even as Noct’s blood dried on his hands, as he heard Gladio and Prompto murmuring doubt to each other. Ignis’s sanity for the last ten years had hung by one single thread; that he would find a way to defy fate and the Gods and keep Noct safe. He would not allow the Astrals to make Noct a martyr to their cause, not allow them to sacrifice his soul to correct their mistakes. The same feral fire that had led him to don the Ring of the Lucii to protect his Noct still burned just as brightly within him, and he had followed its light since Gralea.

And now that the end had come, he could not allow himself to doubt, even for a second. Not if he were to go on.

Thankfully, the flight to Hammerhead and the hunter’s field hospital set up there was not long--and Ignis was too distracted by his concern for Noct to be victim to the motion sickness that had plagued him since he’d been blinded. Things blurred as Arenea’s ship landed and the doors opened, a loud and excited crowd surrounding them, people tugging and shouting at him from every angle.

But Talcott’s steady voice and presence appeared at his elbow, bringing with them the medic Adria. Ignis knew her well--she would likely argue too well--and he trusted her enough to release his desperate hold on Noct at least enough to lay him on a stretcher.

And Adria knew _him_ well enough to not try and stop him from accompanying it.

The sound of the crowd faded behind them as Adria barked questions at him that he answered as best he could. He could distantly hear Gladio’s voice rising above the general babble and breathed an internal sigh of relief--he could leave everything else to the others for now.

Not that there was much he could do, once they reached the field hospital and Adria’s assistants joined her. Ignis reluctantly let Talcott pull him away from the stretcher so they could do their jobs. It was only then his own exhaustion hit him, combining with the pain of wounds he hadn’t even realized he’d suffered in the rush to assure Noct’s safety.

All in all, by the time one of Adria’s nurses, a young man named Marcus who’d lived half his life in the dark, had finished treating him and Ignis had changed and forced down the food Talcott had pressed upon him, he was able to rejoin Noct.

Adria led him to a chair pulled up next to the bed in the only private room she had. “It’s a damn good thing you got to him with those curatives of yours,” she said, as Ignis sank down, more grateful than he’d admit to be off his feet at last. “That gut wound would’ve been fatal if it hadn’t been half healed already. And Astrals only know what kind of nerve damage he’ll have, that’s way beyond anything I can test for out here. But he’ll live, if I’m any judge.”

“You’re the best I know,” Ignis told her, managing a smile, though his heart quailed at how close they’d come. “Thank you. Again.”

“That’s six you owe me,” she said, gently punching his shoulder. “I won’t tell you to leave, but get some rest if you can, okay? He’ll still be out for a bit and you’re not in such great shape yourself, Scientia.”

“I’ll take it under advisement,” Ignis assured her, his smile coming more easily this time.

She left him alone to his vigil. Ignis waited until he’d heard the door close behind her to reach out, finding Noct’s limp hand on the blanket and taking it in his own. “I’m here, Noct,” he murmured softly. “I’m here, and you’re safe.”

Despite his best efforts, Ignis must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew was the sound of the door opening and a young, feminine voice with a Tenebraen accent saying “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you…”

“It’s all right,” Ignis replied, shaking his head and straightening from where he’d slumped uncomfortably in the chair. He turned and could see a slender silhouette against the bright light of the hallway. The girl’s voice sounded incredibly familiar, but he couldn’t place it. “What can I do for you, Miss…?”

“Oh!” She entered, moving into the room and fading into the general darkness of it as she did so. “I’m sorry, I’d forgotten that you’d...and we were never properly introduced, were we?”

“I don’t believe we were,” Ignis said, brow furrowing as he tried to place her. Though he’d lived in Tenebrae as a child, his parents working as diplomats before the Empire’s annexation, he’d kept in touch with no one, having been too young to form lasting friendships when they’d died. And since then there’d been few enough, besides… “Blessed Astrals,” he breathed, as memory and realization came at once and he pushed himself belatedly to his feet to bow. “My apologies, Lady Lunafreya, I had not expected…”

“Oh no, please, sit.” He felt a featherlight touch against his shoulder as he straightened. “There is no need to stand on ceremony, not here and now of all places. Besides, Noctis wrote of you so often I feel as if I’ve known you for years…”

Ignis sank back in his chair, carefully filing away the fact that Noct had mentioned him to Lunafreya to look at later. For now there was the more pressing concern of her mere _presence_. “He was somewhat more reticent, I’m afraid, when it came to speaking of your correspondence,” he offered. “I...forgive me, my lady, I hadn’t expected you to…” To be alive, if Ignis were completely honest. Noct had said, after the Hydrean, that Gentiana had told him Lunafreya was safe, but Ignis had seen her disappear in a swirl of golden light. He’d privately believed her long dead.

“No, the world was to think me gone,” Lunafreya said softly. “It was safer, and allowed me to work behind the scenes to ease Noctis’s burden...and that of our people. There is nothing to forgive.”

“His burden will be lightened, now, to know you are well,” Ignis said, grateful when the appropriate pleasantries came easily to his lips. His jealousy of Lunafreya’s place in Noct’s life was old and worn enough that all the sharp edges had long ago been ground away under reality and time. If she would make Noct happy, then Ignis could not begrudge her place in his life, no matter how much the darkest, most secret part of himself wanted Noct for his own.

“I hope he will be glad of it, yes,” she said. “But that is not why I am here. The sun has returned, and the purpose of the Oracle and the King been fulfilled. Yet Gentiana’s favor and your wit have saved the girl and the boy. This is a paradox for which the Astrals did not plan.”

So. It had been Gentiana who had allowed Lunafreya to survive. And if she was who Noct had implied her to be...interesting indeed. “Not even the Gods can see all ends, or there would have been no need of King nor Oracle in the first place,” Ignis said, not certain he knew where she was going with this. He didn’t think a God was likely to suddenly appear and take Noct from him...but he’d do what he had to if they tried.

Lunafreya laughed and Ignis couldn’t help smiling in return. “Truly spoken,” she agreed. “As befitting one who has derailed their plans. For which I thank you, as I’m sure Noctis will as well, when he wakes.” She paused, but Ignis didn’t respond except to raise an eyebrow. “I am grateful, for my life, and for his. But our roles are no longer needed, in this new world. The people must learn to guide themselves, and have moved past their need for the divine right of kings.”

“We’ve managed well enough, the last ten years,” Ignis said slowly. She was right, the idea of a divinely appointed monarch seemed almost antiquated and quaint, after the hardships during the dark, when leadership had been assigned by merit. “But there will be many who’ll wish to push him into the position, if only because of what he’s done.”

“There are,” Lunafreya replied. “And many more who would bring their ills to me, as they always have. Which is why I’ve come to Noctis, and you, now. The King and the Oracle are no longer needed, and so they must die. So that Noctis and I may live.”

Ignis started to his feet at her words, but then paused as she finished. “So that...forgive me, my lady, but I don’t see how that can possibly…”

“The Gods have arranged one last gift, before they return to slumber,” she said. “Their power is almost spent, so much did they put into the destruction of the starscourge. But they had enough for this: aside from those who knew us best, the world will no longer recognize me as the Oracle, nor Noctis as the Chosen King of Light. We are merely a refugee from Tenebrae and a Glaive once in service to his King. Citizens of this world, no more.”

Ignis swallowed, hard, his hands clenching the arm rests as he slowly sat back down. What she was saying was...it was more than he could’ve hoped. Noct had never wanted to be king, as it was, and after all he’d been through and suffered, he deserved to have a life of his own. As did Lunafreya. But for it to actually _happen_ … “There are pictures, recordings, your names…”

“The power of the Astrals is strong enough for that,” Lunafreya said simply. “As for our names, I plan to take that which Noctis has always called me for my own, and there were many Lucian boys near his age named for him, should he wish to keep it. Any who see us may note only a passing resemblance to figures of legend.”

“But surely, when you are wed, then…”

Her soft gasp of laughter interrupted him, and Ignis felt his cheeks grow hot. “Oh, I am sorry,” she said, quickly. “I don’t mean to embarrass you, but...I love Noctis like a brother, he means so much to me, but I don’t...our lives are our own, now, Ignis. And I know he will feel only relief to know that they are not tied together, by fate, treaty, or expectation. I think you will find his heart lies elsewhere.”

Ignis could only hope she was right--he didn’t want to think how Noct might feel otherwise. But he also couldn’t help feel the smallest stirring of a hope he’d long thought dead at her words. “I...I hope you’re right, my lady,” he said. “But I know he will still be glad of your safety, and desire your happiness.”

“I know,” she assured him, her voice softening. “As I will, of his. Noctis and I will always be linked, if for no other reason than no other could understand what we once were. But those titles have served their purpose.”

She fell silent, for a long moment, before Ignis heard her rise again. “I will return to Lestallum, for now. I imagine you will do the same, when it is safe for him to travel?”

Ignis nodded slowly. “I can’t speak for him, of course, but it seems likely. I’ve lodgings there, as do the others. Even if he wishes to return to Insomnia eventually, winter is coming and it would be better to pass it in safety than in the ruins.”

“Then I will see you soon, I’m sure.” Ignis felt as much as heard her move closer and he tipped his head up. Her hands alighted, gently and slowly enough so as not to startle him, to cup his jaw. He held still under her regard, wondering what she saw. “Noctis is and has always been lucky to have you in his life, Ignis,” she said at last, releasing him. “Watch over him.”

“I intend to,” Ignis replied, repressing a shiver. She may claim she was no longer the Oracle, but being the recipient of her attention was still somehow unnerving.

“Then all will be well.” She stepped back, and once again opened the door, her slim form visible against the light. “Farewell for now.”

The door fell closed behind her, and for the second time Ignis saw the Oracle fade into golden light. But this time her disappearance left behind a sense of peace and hope.

***

The passage of time in the Crystal bore little resemblance to that outside of it. Noct had known, when he had finally awoken on Angel Island, that time _had_ passed, of course. He could even remember, vaguely, long periods of conversation with his father, with the other monarchs of Lucis, communing with his ancestors who’d worn the Ring.

But he never would have thought those long, now half-forgotten moments in the Crystal could’ve added up to an entire decade. That his friends had spent that long in the dark, waiting for him, made the fact he’d known he was about to die all the worse. He couldn’t delay in going to meet his fate, couldn’t keep the light from the world for one moment longer than it’d already had to endure. But to have been gone for so long only to have so little time with them…

It had been that, he thought, more than anything that had convinced him to chance Ignis’s device. Noct hadn’t been able to let himself believe it would work, even when the red light of it had wreathed the Ring and sunk into it, forming a bright spark in the heart of the stone. He hadn’t let himself believe, had convinced himself any difference he felt in the Ring had to be his own wishful thinking.

He couldn’t let himself believe he would live, when he knew he had to die.

And yet, less than twenty-four hours after he had channeled the power of the Gods, the Oracle, and his ancestors through his own body to banish the Starscourge and Ardyn from the world of Eos, after he had resigned himself to the destruction of his body and his soul, after he had accepted oblivion, Noctis opened his eyes to a room flooded with the sunlight of a new day.

He blinked, then blinked again, turning his head to take in the room around him. It was shabby but clean, whitewashed walls, a single window overlooking an open field, some large rocks and mountains in the distance. He lay on a hospital bed, he realized, an IV in his arm, and his hand held by...oh Gods. _Thank the Astrals…_

Slumped and sleeping in a chair next to his bed was Ignis, holding Noct’s left hand in his own. He was bruised, battered--Noct could see a newly stitched cut on his right cheekbone and the hint of a bandage showed under the open neck of his shirt--but alive.

They were both _alive_. The sun had returned, and yet he lived. Noct closed eyes suddenly blurred by tears, letting them fall and soak back into his hair. It had worked. By all that was holy, it had _worked_. Ignis had defied the will of the Gods and _won_.

And at last the mad, reckless road he’d traveled since Ignis had walked into their room in Galdin Quay, holding the newspaper whose headline had so completely changed the course of Noct’s life, had come to an end. No longer did a heavy goal hang over him, an impossible task await him.

He could rest.

A soft sob broke free before Noct could stop it, tears flowing more freely as some deep, tense part of him _relaxed_ for the first time in over a decade. Another sob that was half laugh followed, joy and relief mixing in equal measure. He was exhausted, he was in pain, but he was _alive_.

Ignis stirred, his fingers tightening around Noct’s and Noct gripped them back in turn. Ignis straightened with a wince, his brow furrowing as he turned his face toward Noct’s. “Noct?”

“Hey,” Noct replied, tugging him closer, feeling like he might break apart from the incredulous joy bubbling inside him. “You look like shit.”

Ignis chuckled, a grin breaking across his own face. “I’ve been reliably informed you’re not much better,” he replied.

“Probably way worse,” Noct agreed, unable to stop his own answering grin. “It’s...Iggy...the...the sun’s out,” he said, suddenly overwhelmed with all he _wanted_ to say, to do. Everything he’d sworn to himself he would, if he’d only had opportunity and time.

Everything he now _could_ , if he only had the courage. 

“Thanks to you,” Ignis said, squeezing his hand again. “And you’re here.”

“Thanks to _you_ ,” Noct echoed. Gods. Ignis had saved his life before, of course, but this time...this time Noct would happily spend the rest of his life showing him just how grateful he was. In whatever way Ignis would let him. “Are you okay? Are the others?”

“We are,” Ignis assured him quickly. “Gladio has picked up a few new scars, as I believe I have as well. And sadly Prompto’s facial hair survived intact.”

Noct snorted softly. “The biggest tragedy of all,” he said, letting himself relax back into the bed. “Where are we?”

“Hammerhead. There’s a field hospital for the hunters here and it was the closest place to bring you…”

“I guess I probably needed it, huh?” Noct asked wryly. His memories were distorted, fading in and out like a half forgotten dream, but the sensation of his father’s sword sinking into him was still horribly clear.

“You did,” Ignis replied, all levity leaving his voice. “We were able to use an elixir, but it appears our curatives have lost their potency...the first partly healed you, but the others have reverted to mere drinks, now. I imagine the effort of ending the Starscourge may have impacted your magic.”

Noct nodded slowly. “That’d make sense,” he agreed. “What about the Armiger?”

“It can still be accessed for now,” Ignis replied, flipping a dagger in and out of existence in his free hand. “But I believe Prompto is currently clearing out a dozen years’ worth of stored belongings into a spare room on the off chance it stops. And Gladio’s doubled the size of the armory here doing the same.”

Noct laughed, imagining the mess Prompto was no doubt making. Gods, he didn’t even want to think of some of the things they’d all hidden in that infinite invisible space over the years... “Are you saying you didn’t rescue all your clothes and cooking gear?”

“I’ve been otherwise occupied,” Ignis replied primly. “So Prompto’s taking care of it for me.”

The answer and tone were so perfectly _Ignis_ that Noct’s eyes filled again even as he laughed. He blinked the tears away, warmth and certainty rising in his chest. He wasn’t going to waste this chance. He didn’t know what the world would look like, in this new dawn, he wasn’t sure if he’d be expected to take the throne--though a part of him hoped not--but he did know one thing.

He wasn’t going to live without letting Ignis know just how much he meant to him. It’d been one thing, to not tell him when Noct knew he was going to die. It would’ve been cruel, when even if Ignis felt the same they would’ve had only a handful of days, days filled with fighting and fear and no time. He couldn’t have done that.

But now...now an actual _lifetime_ stretched out in front of them. A second chance. Surely he had to take it.

“Make sure he gets my fishing stuff,” was all he said for the moment, though. Now that he had time, Noct wanted to savor it, to find the right moment. And to do his best to be sure of Ignis’s feelings in return. He knew what he hoped, but it wouldn’t hurt to feel things out a bit. “Just in case.”

“Already set aside for you,” Ignis said with a soft smile. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got stabbed,” Noct said with a groan, carefully shifting his weight and assessing himself. His back hurt, his left knee _ached_ , there was a dull pain in his gut, and his right arm up to the side of his neck and cheek itched fiercely. He turned his head, looking down at his hand--and felt his eyes widen.

A tracery of half healed burn scars radiated up from the base of his middle finger, across the back of his hand and up his arm. They followed an ever branching path, like tendrils of lightning striking across his skin. A flash of memory of the power of the Ring as he’d struck at Ardyn came to him and he shivered. The Ring itself was gone, but a thicker burn encircled his finger--a match to the one he knew Ignis bore himself. “And burned, apparently,” he added, his voice shaking slightly.

“Ah, yes,” Ignis said, a soft understanding in his face. “Yours were more extensive but less intense than my own--they should heal quickly and not trouble you much. The medic here, Adria, said you should heal well, though...she mentioned the possibility of nerve damage.”

“That’s nothing new,” Noct said wryly, carefully shifting again. Though if his enchanted curatives weren’t working, and they were worried about the Armiger...he might have to rely on less magical methods of support than he’d employed in the past. Oh well. Wasn’t like he’d be fighting a lot of daemons now, was it? “I wasn’t expecting to wake up, Iggy, I’m not sure I really care about anything else.”

“Your continued presence is worth any number of inconveniences,” Ignis agreed, squeezing Noct’s hand again, tightly, before releasing him. “I promised to report when you woke, though no one will be allowed in to see you without my express permission.”

Noct curled his fingers around themselves, missing the warmth of Ignis’s hand. “Thanks, Specs,” he said, wondering how many people _would_ want to come see him. The King of Light, the Chosen One, who’d saved the world...shit. He’d just done what he was told, what he’d needed to….and he never would’ve gotten to the place to do it without the others. “I...I imagine there’s a lot of them?”

“Not as many as you’d think,” Ignis said with a shake of his head. He’d pulled out a phone--one Noct knew either Prompto or Cid must’ve modded for him, it had a tactile keyboard--and tapped out a quick series of commands. “Though you did have one visitor, earlier, that I believe you’ll be sad to have missed.”

Noct listened, as Ignis told him of Luna’s visit--and of what she’d said. The pure and utter _relief_ that flooded through him left him feeling weak. “I...really?” he asked, his voice shaking.

“I admit I had my doubts,” Ignis said. “But the nurse who last looked in on you said he was sorry for us losing the King, and knew we’d all been close. And that he hoped we’d know how much everyone appreciated his sacrifice. So…”

“Huh.” Noct ran a hand back through his hair, feeling a smile tug at his lips. “So I get to just...be a person?”

“Practically a commoner, highness,” Ignis teased. “Though as a Glaive you would’ve had some status, I suppose.”

“Probably still more than I want,” Noct admitted. He let out a long breath, looking out the window to the distant hills. “You know...back when we were collecting the Arms, before Altissa...I used to wish that it could...that it could be real. That we were just four hunters, making a living helping people out where we could. I missed home, I missed having a place to live, and I was so, so angry at the Empire, at my dad, but those months...they were good, too.”

“They were,” Ignis said. “There may no longer be daemons to hunt, Noct, but there’ll be plenty of ways left to help, if you still wish to. But you can decide what you want, now. And with what you’ve done, what you’ve given up...no one could say you haven’t earned it.”

“Yeah...maybe I have,” Noct agreed.

Earned a second chance, a lifetime of his own...and maybe, just maybe, the ability to spend it with the man he loved.

***

The car was not the Regalia and the driver was not Ignis, but Noct had still felt a pang of nostalgia as they left Hammerhead several days later. How many times had they pulled out of the settlement and driven to Cleigne and Lestallum? How many times had this portion of road passed beneath his tires?

But this time he hadn’t had to share the backseat with Gladio, only Umbra. Nor had they travelled to Lestallum to finish an errand for someone, or to turn in a hunt. No, Lestallum was not merely a stop this time, but their destination. They were going to stay, to let Noct finish recovering in Ignis’s home, before he decided what, exactly, he would do with the life he hadn’t expected to live.

Noct had always been able to sleep almost anywhere, and he’d drifted off fairly early into the drive, listening to Talcott and Ignis talk in the front seat, their voices a low hum that combined with the swish of the tires over pavement to lull him to rest. He knew he should probably try to pay attention--Talcott seemed to be giving Ignis some sort of update on the state of things, how people were reacting to the return of the sun--but the temptation to stretch out and rest was too much.

He drifted between consciousness and unconsciousness for most of the drive, every now and then coming close enough to the surface to hear the others speaking, or the radio, to feel Umbra pressed against him. But always he’d allow himself to drift back again.

Until, at last, he felt a hand on his arm. “Noct? Noct, we’re here.”

“Already?” Noct asked, resisting the urge to rub at his eyes with his fists. He yawned and pushed himself up gingerly, looking out the open car door.

They were, undoubtedly, in Lestallum. Even this late into autumn, the air was warm against his skin and carried with it the scent of the city. But how the city itself had changed…

Noct remembered the tiers of apartment buildings and homes stretching back into the cliffside--their numbers had tripled at least, the cliffs invisible behind the stretch of accommodations. He whistled, softly, as Talcott brought his wheelchair around and held it for him. “I know you said everyone was staying here, but _damn_ …”

“We’ve been busy,” Talcott agreed cheerfully. “You can’t see it from here, but the west side of the city spreads out even further. Dave was pretty insistent they find space for everybody who showed up, and once Ignis and Gladio backed him up everyone pretty much fell in. I don’t know what we’ll do with all the empty buildings when people start moving home…”

“That may take some time,” Ignis said, coming around the side of the car. “Even the hunters in Hammerhead seemed unwilling to trust that the nights are safe once more.”

“Not sure I blame ‘em,” Noct said, settling himself and giving Talcott a reassuring smile. He still hadn’t quite reconciled the kid who loved cactuars with this competent adult, but he was doing his best. “I think I’ll still be jumping at shadows for years.”

“It’s probably good it’s so close to winter,” Talcott said, shutting the car door after Umbra jumped out and settling Noct’s bag on his shoulder. “Gives everyone time to get antsy and be ready to head out and start planting come spring.”

“How’ve you guys been staying fed, anyway?” Noct asked as they headed up into town. Ignis had assured him part of the massive amounts of construction that had been done in the town had been the elimination of the old stairs between levels, but he was still relieved when it proved true, the main path up the hill now a long, sloping street without a step in sight. “Without sunlight?”

“We set up fairly massive hydroponic facilities,” Ignis replied. He kept one hand on Noct’s shoulder, as they went, though Noct wasn’t sure if it was as a guide or merely because he wanted to keep in contact. “Holly and Cindy were able to reverse engineer those headlights we fetched her to make some incredibly effective grow lights. The first year was fairly lean, but we were able to store a good portion of the last year’s harvest.”

“Yeah, turned out Iris and Monica taking up gardening worked out pretty good for us,” Talcott said. He waved at people as they passed and, Noct noticed, waved _away_ a few who looked as if they wanted to stop and talk. “You would’ve hated it, though, your high--Noct. All vegetables.”

Noct laughed softly--and ignored the slip. Talcott couldn’t be expected to start calling him by name all at once, even if he was one of the very few who seemed to remember Noct for who he truly was. It’d been a start, when one of the hunters he’d known slightly from before had told him he was sorry Noct had lost his friend, the king. It seemed that people who’d been acquainted with him remembered that Noct had traveled with Ignis, Gladio and Prompto, but also remembered a fifth member of their party who’d been the true King, while Noct had just been another part of the entourage.

Disconcerting, to say the least.

“I think I would’ve managed, if I’d had to,” he offered.

“Hmph. I knew you only refused them to spite me,” Ignis said, hand gently squeezing Noct’s shoulder.

By the time they reached Ignis’s home, Noct was exhausted and more than ready to rest. The apartment proved to be part of the original town, tucked into a back corner alley, and blessedly quiet. It was built directly into the cliff, the rooms themselves appearing to have been carved originally from the rock, who knew how long ago. “I’m afraid there’s not much of a view,” Ignis said, as he held the door open. “Even in the darkness rooms with large windows were preferred and as I’d no need of them…”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Noct reassured him, a little amused at Ignis’s obvious hesitance. But then, he’d seemed surprised Noct had wanted to stay with him at all, especially since Gladio and Prompto had both offered, too. Not that either of them had been remotely surprised when Noct had chosen Ignis’s home. In fact, he’d been almost grateful Ignis _couldn’t_ see the wink Gladio’d given him, or the frankly embarrassing hand gestures from Prompto. “Right now all I want is a flat surface to stretch out on.”

Talcott laughed, flicking the light switch on. “There’s several of those, promise.”

Noct looked around. The room was spare, which wasn’t too surprising, but tidy and homey enough. The living room held a large couch and a couple comfy looking chairs--the patterns didn’t quite match, but the fabric looked soft enough. He could see into the kitchen, which looked well appointed and he thought he recognized a few of the pots and pans from long nights at camp.

The air was cool, after the warmth of the outside, and smelled faintly of a mix of the spices Ignis used in his cooking. It was, Noct realized, the smell he’d always associated with his own apartment back in Insomnia. It smelled like _home_.

He blinked, ducking his head to hide the wetness of his eyes, and cleared his throat. “So, where are you stashing me?”

“You’re in my old room,” Talcott told him, taking him down the central hall and opening the door on the left. This room brought back no wave of nostalgia, being only four walls, a bed, and a dresser. There was art, here, though it was only some ancient cactuar posters and some photos. Noct thought they were probably Prompto’s, he appeared in several, as did Ignis, Gladio, Iris, Dustin, Monica, Cid, Cindy, and Cor. “I cleaned a lot of things out, when I started hunting on my own last year, but I can grab the rest if you want…”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Noct assured him, quickly, looking up from a picture of all of them gathered in the port at Caem, right before sailing to Altissa. “Sorry I’m kicking you out, though. I didn’t realize you were living with Ignis…”

“I’m not, now, not really,” Talcott assured him, dropping the bag of Noct’s things--few of them as there were--on the dresser. “I did, for years, though. I guess Iris and Gladio thought having me around might keep him from going off hunting or risking himself...but instead he ended up teaching me and we started searching all the old Solheim ruins. But I’ve uh...been staying with a friend, when I’ve been in Lestallum, lately. It’s nothing official, but…”

Noct grinned, but resisted the urge to tease. “I get it. Thanks for letting me crash here, then.”

Talcott blushed, but grinned back. “You’re welcome, Pri--er--Noct. Do you need anything? Ignis can probably take care of it, if you do, but I’ll be around and you can always ask me…”

“I’ve got your number,” Noct reassured him. “But right now all I need is a nap. You might check with Ignis about shopping, though, I don’t know how much food he’ll have stocked…”

“Will do,” Talcott said. He stayed long enough to help Noct get settled in bed, patting Umbra when the dog jumped up and curled up by Noct’s feet. “It’s….it’s good to have you back,” he said, hesitating in the doorway. “To stay. Ignis...well. It means a lot to him.”

And with that surprising admission, Talcott left the room, leaving Noct alone.

He tried to get comfortable, listening to the sound of Ignis and Talcott chatting in the other room, the more distant babble of the city outside. It was a reassuring sign of life and he felt himself drift in it for some time, enjoying the evidence that the world went on around him.

Eventually that drifting turned must’ve turned to sleep, because the next thing he knew he was being gently shaken awake. “Noct?”

Noct blinked, opening his eyes to a darkened room. “Yeah?”

“Are you hungry?” Ignis’s voice came from beside the bed. “I’ve made dinner, but if you’d rather sleep…”

“No, no, food sounds good,” Noct said, raising a hand to run it back through his hair, squinting as he tried to make Ignis out in the dark. “Uh...do you have lights?”

Ignis chuckled, softly. “Apologies. I forgot.”

A moment later an overhead light flicked on and Noct blinked again, to find Ignis standing at the door. Noct allowed himself a moment to admire him--Ignis had always been attractive, but the promise he’d shown as a young man had more than been fulfilled in the last ten years. And Noct knew he was still just as deadly, his acrobatic fighting skills if anything only more refined now. The scars across his face--fully visible now, he’d taken off the visor at some point--didn’t detract from his looks at all. If anything, the reminder of what he was willing to endure for Noct made Noct appreciate them all the more.

And _Gods_ , Noct wanted to kiss him.

Instead, he pushed himself up, grunting at the soreness in his gut. He was, according to Ignis’s friend Adria, healing very well indeed and should be back to normal in a few weeks. But it didn’t change the fact that he’d gotten used to curatives, and having to let anything heal naturally felt like adding insult to injury.

Add that to the fact that his left knee refused to hold his weight, and he wasn’t going to be fighting any battles any time soon. He could only hope there weren’t any left to fight. “What’d you make?” he asked, transferring himself carefully over into his wheelchair.

“Mother and Child rice bowls,” Ignis replied, leading the way back down the hall, flipping light switches on as he went. “The cupboard is a bit bare, but I had a few essentials at least.”

“That sounds amazing,” Noct assured him, shaking away the memory of the nights they camped in the Fodina Caestino quarry, when all they’d had to eat was Cup Noodles. He really should’ve helped Ignis cook more on the trip...he could’ve helped out, then, tried to make the situation easier on all of them. But it was in the past, no way of changing it now. “Thanks.”

“It’s good to cook for you again,” Ignis said, moving easily to the small dining table. He had, Noct noticed, pulled away the chair from one side, leaving it open for him. “Though I’ll gladly accept your help with the dishes when you’re fully recovered.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Noct replied, grateful enough to see Ignis’s sly smile that he wasn’t even tempted to protest. Much. 

Dinner was, as always, excellent. Noct found himself savoring it, the fairly simple meal tasting even better than he’d remembered. Or maybe it was merely that they were in an actual home, no one else with them, nothing they had to do. He realized with a start the last time he’d had dinner alone with Ignis like this had been before they’d left Insomnia. Before everything had changed.

No wonder it felt so familiar and yet so foreign. Even the soft piano music playing on the radio could’ve come from before--but not the sounds of Lestallum outside, so different than Insomnia. And they themselves had changed so much…

But not in the ways that counted, Noct told himself firmly. They’d grown up, they’d matured, they’d been tested, sure...but they hadn’t broken.

“Everything to your liking?” Ignis asked quietly.

Noct let out the breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. “Yeah,” he said, forcing himself to relax. “Yeah, yeah, it’s good. Sorry, just…” He trailed off, not sure how to put his thoughts into words.

“You have much to think on,” Ignis offered, setting down his cup and leaning back slightly. “I have to admit, I don’t envy you, Noct. Having to catch up on ten years…”

Noct snorted softly. “I think you guys got the shorter end of the stick on that one. I was just asleep, you were busy fighting for your lives…”

“Perhaps, but we had time to rest, to adjust, to live, as well,” Ignis countered. “I won’t pretend any of us had an easy time of it, but at least we knew what was happening in the world--and were able to act. I must say I prefer that.”

Noct pushed his food around on his plate, making a face. He wasn’t sure he agreed with Ignis...but he also didn’t want to assume he knew how Ignis had felt, waiting for him. He knew how _he_ would’ve felt, if things had been reversed, but… “I guess. I just hate that I made everyone wait so long...you must’ve thought I wasn’t coming back.”

“Not for a second,” Ignis said, so firmly Noct looked up at him in surprise. “I knew you would return. My only concern was being ready when you did.”

Noct felt a smile spread across his face and he reached out to gently squeeze Ignis’s hand in reassurance. “You were.”

Ignis turned his fingers under Noct’s, to return the gentle handclasp. “Thankfully. And you’ve time now to catch up on the time you missed, as you wish.”

“Gonna make me read status reports on the state of the kingdom?” Noct asked with a raised eyebrow, picking his fork back up as Ignis released him. “This really is like old times.”

Ignis chuckled softly. “I suppose I could ask Dave to have some prepared for you, if you wish,” he offered. “Unless you’d rather play video games with Prompto?”

“When wouldn’t I?” Noct asked, his eyes stinging again. Dammit. He supposed it wasn’t too surprising, that everything was hitting him now that the danger had passed, that the need to keep himself together was over. Part of him was grateful that it’d held off this long, that he’d made it through everything he’d had to do without breaking down completely.

“Noct?” Ignis’s voice was soft, understanding, and Noct swallowed hard.

“I’m okay,” he said, swallowing again.

“You know it’s more than all right if you’re not,” Ignis said quietly. “There’s no example you need to set, here, no one for whom you need to be strong. Just me.”

“And you’ve got my back,” Noct whispered, feeling tears spill over. Shit. This wasn’t how he wanted to spend his first evening alone with Ignis.

“Always,” Ignis murmured. He stood, rounding the table and reaching out, sliding his hand up Noct’s arm when he found it to squeeze his shoulder. “If you’ve eaten your fill, shall we move to the couch?”

Noct nodded, then remembered himself. “Yeah, yeah, I think I’m good,” he said, scrubbing gingerly at his face, wiping away the few tears that’d escaped. 

He moved and transferred himself to the couch, as Ignis cleaned up a bit, trying to control his breathing, to get the urge to cry or shake or _whatever_ it was his body apparently wanted him to do under control. Ignis had gone through so much for him, in the darkness, he wasn’t going to be impressed by Noct falling apart as soon as things were actually looking up…

He was so inwardly focused that he missed Ignis joining him and let out a yelp when he felt a hand suddenly on his arm. “Shit! Sorry, you scared me…”

Ignis, to his credit, didn’t laugh, though he did smile slightly. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“S’okay,” Noct assured him, running a hand back through his hair. “Um…”

“Noct, I know we’re no longer children,” Ignis said. “And that it may be forward of me to offer. But…” He slid his hand up Noct’s arm, and around his shoulder. “If I can be of any comfort to you, now…”

Noct turned gratefully toward him, curling in against Ignis’s side. The moment he did Ignis moved to gently lift him, until Noct was cradled in his lap with Ignis’s arms around him. Noct rested his head on Ignis’s shoulder, pressing his forehead to Ignis’s neck, and let out a long, shaking breath. Gods. How long had it been, since he’d been held like this? He and Ignis had cuddled as kids, all the time, but after he’d been injured they’d stopped. At first it had been too dangerous, and then Ignis had started having so many classes in what was and wasn’t appropriate for a royal retainer. And yeah, there’d been the excuse of camping, and rough housing, and they’d touched each other during sparring, and they hadn’t ever gone completely without casual touches, but...nothing like this.

And _Astrals_ , he’d missed it.

Noct burrowed in closer, letting himself relax the tight hold he’d been keeping on himself, trusting Ignis to hold him together. But he found, surrounded as he was by the other man, the need to shake and fall apart had ebbed, leaving only the desire to never move again. Not if he didn’t have to.

“Thank you,” he whispered, after a long interval spent simply listening to the sound of Ignis’s breathing, the gentle music still playing on the radio, the sound of people calling to each other outside, the constant cheerful greetings that so marked Lestallum.

“You’re quite welcome.” Ignis’s arms tightened around him and Noct could swear he felt a press of lips against his hair. “ _Noct…_ ”

Noct had heard Ignis say his name countless times, with any number of emotions. Exasperation, fear, fondness, anger, amusement...they’d all laced the word in the years since Ignis had first said it. But never before had Noct heard it spoken with such _longing_. 

And after all they’d been through, after everything Ignis had done for him, after everything Noct had promised himself he would do differently, if given the chance, what had once seemed the greatest risk possible turned out to be no risk at all.

Noct raised his head from Ignis’s shoulder, looking up into the face of the man he loved. “Me, too, Specs,” he murmured, lifting a hand to cup Ignis’s cheek, running his thumb along his scarred cheekbone. “Me, too. Can...can I kiss you?”

Ignis leaned into the touch, his eye closing as a single tear escaped it. “I... _please_?”

And so Noct did, leaning in to press their lips together, at long last giving recognition and name to the bond that had caused one man to defy fate and the Gods for the sake of the other.

Never again would Noct let them be separated.


End file.
